


Just My Luck

by I_am_thereal_moffat_tehe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Why would you read this, no stop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 16:58:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2316839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_thereal_moffat_tehe/pseuds/I_am_thereal_moffat_tehe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No why would you read this stop</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just My Luck

TV show: Supernatural  
Name: Just My Luck  
By: I_am_thereal_moffat_tehe 

This is a AU where it's: Abusive!Dean, Young!sam, And Castiel. Rated M for Abuse, Rape, and language. I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. And if I did it would be a completely different show. I do not own the store New Peoples Store or any of its products. I do not live in Kansas, either.  
Side affects: unknown. 

Word count:1340

Sam was lying in bed, about to drift off when he heard his older brother come in from being drunk. It was 1:00 AM, and John was watching what he called "porn" (he told me that it's were a man and a woman would have intense sex) He heard his brother and his father get in a intense argument, which happened every night. Dean would brake a few lamps and Dad would throw some beer bottles.  
Sam listened to their conversation.  
"I FUCKING HATE YOU DAD! YOU NEVER LET ME DO ANYTHING EVER! YOU'RE SUCH A FUCKIN BABY YOU BITCH!"  
"WELL I NEVER WANTED TO HAVE YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE! I WOULD SACRIFICE YOU AND SAM TO GET YOUR MOTHER BACK! YOU'RE GROUNDED YOU LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT! YOU'RE WORTHLESS AND NOTHING BUT TRASH!"  
Sam always hated what would come next. His brother would walk in his room angered from the fight and would violently rip Sam from his slumber and take off his pants.  
The next act is what Dean calls "surprise sex" and he told me If I told dad he would kill me.  
I always try to kick him off me because it hurts, but he's always stronger.

The next day I went to school, I didn't head home, I had enough of Dean doing his things to me, I was not going to be hurt anymore. I ran, And I ran and I ran and I ran in the opposite direction of my home. Before I knew it I was in some neighborhood I've never seen before. I didn't have a plan,  
"Oh no..." I thought to myself. I didn't want to end up like mom.  
For what felt like hours, I cried, I cried harder then when Dean did his things to me.  
I felt I light tap on my shoulder, and I turned around. I really couldn't see the man threw my tears, but I know he had a long coat.  
"Hello, Sam."  
"H-h-how do you know m-m-my name?"  
"I'm Castiel, Angel of The Lord, and your guardian"  
"M-m-my guardian?"  
"Yes. I'm supposed to protect you from harm."  
Sam would usually question why Castiel didn't save him from all those nights, but right now he just needed someone.  
"O-okay."  
Then he held my hand, and lifted me up to his chest.  
"Hold on Sam."  
I grabbed on to his yellow coat and before I knew it I was flying through the air.  
I felt the wind going through my hair, and the warmth of Castiel holding me. The steady rhythm of Castiel's beating wings was comforting, and I felt myself drift into sleep.

I lived with Cas through my childhood ( I was 12 when he found me) and teen years. Every day after school he would pick me up and fly me to our house. We lived in a small shack that was built in a hurry, but it was odd and it was ours. After about a week of living with Cas, I started calling him dad, and it went on like this for years.  
One day Cas was acting as he did, but something was off. I approached him about the subject.  
"Is something wrong?"  
"No, nothing is Sam. Did you do your homework?"  
"Yes, Dad I did. Are you sure nothing is wrong?"  
"Yes, Sam. It's time for bed now."  
"Okay Dad."  
The next day Dad didn't come and pick me up, which was very odd.  
"This can't be good at all."  
I thought to myself.  
I rushed home and I kicked the door open. I couldn't find a single sign of Cas anywhere. I Hadn't felt this sad, well, ever. I felt wet salty tears going down my face. Cas was like a father to me, Cas did more than what I asked. Why would he just up and leave? He wouldn't do something like this, at least not without leaving a note of some sort. 

Sam laid in his bed for hours on end, waiting, watching for his father to come back. A day passed. A week. A month.  
He kept waiting and time kept moving.  
No sign of his father anywhere, not even a feather. Sam was drifting slowly away from school. He missed a day here and there, then just stopped going at all.

He eventually ran out of food and was forced to go to the supermarket. He rushed and grabbed a few things just in case his dad came back when he was gone.  
When he stomped in the door and found a being standing there. It wasn't his father, this man didn't have a trench coat on.  
"Who the hell are you?"  
Sam said to the figure  
The figure turned around, and it was his dad.  
But something was different.  
"Who are you"  
His "father" called out.  
"I'm Sam, your son."  
Sam replied.  
"I have a son? You must have the wrong person, Sam. I'm Jim Novak."  
"Dad never told me about a Jim Novak. Why the hell are you here? You look just like my dad."  
"Castiel told me to go here. He told me he had to leave his "vessel" which is me, for awhile."  
"I have no idea who the fuck you are but if dad told you to come here you are welcome, I guess."  
For the next few weeks Jim lived with me.  
We went to church every Sunday, and I prayed to Cas to come home.

 

He never did.

I always wondered why he left that day,  
But somethings I guess are never solved.

About five years later (when I'm 23)  
Jim died, I didn't have enough for his funeral so I had to cremate him.  
I spread some of his ashes around the area the shack once stood. It was demolished when I was 20 because it became too much to fix because of the termites.  
I kept a small ounce of his ashes in a make-shift necklace. I always keep him with me.  
Today I live in a house not to far off where my original house was, the house where John, Dean and I used to live.  
The man who lives there now is a very old man named Bobby. I get along with him very well and I usually call him my uncle.  
Today I'm going to ask him if he knows about the previous family.  
I knock on his door, and wait a minute.  
No answer.  
I check his garage for his car and it's still there.  
I knock again.  
No answer.  
I try opening the door, and it opens very easily. Odd for Bobby.  
"Hello?"  
No answer.  
I become uneasy, but I continue and start going up the stairs.  
"Hello?"  
I say to his closed bedroom door.  
Again, no answer.  
I open it very slowly, and see a figure in the bed.  
I shuffle over to it and it's Bobby.  
But something is off.  
I check his pulse.  
Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Several years after Bobby died, I moved to a small town in Kansas, named Agra.  
One day I went to the local small grocery store, The New Peoples Store.  
I saw a unusually familiar man, around in his 50's. I spoke to him.  
"Don't I know you from somewhere?"  
The man turned around, with whitish-blondish-brownish hair.  
"Hmm? Who are you?"  
"My name is Sam, who are you? I recognize you from somewhere."  
"Heh, I had a brother named Sam. I'm Dean, nice to meet you."  
Sam had put the pieces together.  
And then punched him in the face.


End file.
